The Lost Ones
by Robin R. Smith
Summary: WIP. ATF AU. Crossover with Highlander and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. When team 7 are called on to solve a murder involving beheadings and explosions, Exra past may come to light. Methos must protect those who he loves the most. EV slash MSX.
1. Prolog

Disclaimer: Neither the characters of Magnificent 7 nor the characters for Highlander are mine. They are just being borrowed.  
  
THE LOST ONES By: Robin R. Smith  
  
Prologue  
  
Monday, December 9, 2002 12:00 a.m. Denver, Colorado  
  
The southern section of the Warehouse District was notorious for the homeless people that roamed the streets after dark. For the last five years the businesses had been slowly relocating to the north side of town, making it an ideal location for someone needing shelter or just a place to hide out. During the day the police patrolled the area and evacuated the transients in a vain effort to attract new businesses to the area.  
  
After dark it was another story. As soon as the sun set, the people that called the area home would return and reclaim it for themselves. On a normal night, the area would be teeming with life as the temporary residents went about their lives. This was not a normal night.  
  
The streets were eerily silent, the area deserted. There was an almost palpable aura of evil in the air and there was no life to be found, not even that of the rodents and stray dogs that occupied the area. A strange clanging sound filled the air, the sound of steel striking steel. The noise was coming from a large abandoned warehouse that was once the location of a furniture storehouse.  
  
The inside of the warehouse was filled with years of dust and grime. It was not the type of place you expected to find a man wearing an expensive Armani suit. Yet, there he was; sweating, scared, and covered in blood from quickly healing wounds and holding a sword limply in one hand. He knew that he would not survive the night. He was weakening and as soon as he faltered his opponent would take his life. Filled with terror but determined to fight he let out a desperate scream and rushed his opponent swinging his sword wildly. His opponent calmly evaded him and with negligent ease he swung his own sword and cut off the man's head.  
  
The victor threw back his head and let out a vicious laugh that was soon drowned out by the explosions resulting from his victims quickening. A fine mist slowly rose from the body and slammed into his murderer accompanied by bolts of lightening. The quickening went on for several minutes when a shock wave flew outward exploding all of the windows in the warehouse. The sudden silence was deafening and the killer slowly sank to the ground with an expression of bliss spreading over his face.  
  
A chilling voice filled with all the terrors of hell suddenly rang through the building, "Only three more left, then I'll be coming for you old friend." 


	2. Chapter 1

For Disclaimers see first part.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Monday, December 9, 2002 9:00 a.m. Denver, Colorado  
  
The elevator door leading to the eleventh floor of the Denver ATF office opened and a stylish young man dressed in a thousand-dollar suit stepped out. He was carrying a cup of Starbucks coffee and reading the financial section of the newspaper. Without looking up from the paper he nimbly stepped to the side and neatly evaded the wadded up piece of paper thrown at him.  
  
"Damn, Ez! How do you do that? You didn't even look up." The whining came from Team Seven's resident ladies man and explosives expert, Buck Wilmington. Even though his birth certificate said he was forty, he behaved younger than his twenty-five year old partner and roommate JD Dunne. Their continuing antics were infamous through out the Denver ATF office.  
  
"Mistah Wilmington, I feah it is all too easy to anticipate the actions of a Neanderthal such as yourself," replied a smooth southern voice.  
  
"You calling me predictable Ez?"  
  
"On the contrary, ah'm simply referring to your propensity to revert back to a pre-civilized life form on a regulah basis."  
  
"What?"  
  
"He's callin' ya' a caveman Bucklin." An amused voice cut in from across the room.  
  
Ezra Standish looked up at the sound of his lover's voice. Sitting at his desk, slouched down in his chair with an amused smile on his face was Vin Tanner. Though he was only twenty-seven, Vin was the best sharpshooter and tracker in the country and the veritable heart of Team Seven. Vin was a young man with an old soul. He had lost his mother to cancer when he was only five. Then at the age of nine, after being shuffled through several abusive foster homes and institutions, he ran away. He grew up on the streets of Denver in a rough neighbor hood called Purgatorio and had the scars to prove it.  
  
Ezra let his eyes roam over Vin's long slim form. He felt himself hardening as he remembered how they had spent the weekend. They had only managed to get out of the bed long enough to grab a quick snack before retreating back to their warm love nest. It took all of his self-control to keep the joy he was feeling from showing on his face. However, when their eyes met he was unable to keep his love for this man from shining brightly in his eyes. After an eternity alone, he never thought that he would be able to find someone he loved this much. Surprisingly enough, Vin seemed to love him just as much. He stood by him even after learning about all of his personal demons. In Vin he had finally found his soul mate.  
  
Having reached the office that he shared with Vin, Ezra reached out to close the door only to be stopped by the irate voice of their team leader, Chris Larabee. Chris was a man who at forty already had a brittle hardness to him resulting from the death of his wife and son in a car bomb meant for him. "About time you graced us with your presence Ezra. We've got a new case. Everyone, assemble in the conference room."  
  
"Morning Ezra."  
  
"Morning Son."  
  
"Mistah Jackson. Mistah Sanchez, it is in deed a good morning, although it would be infinitely bettah if you would be kind enough to remember that ah am not yoah son," Ezra replied to both the medic and the profiler of team seven as he joined them in their trek to the conference room. Being the two oldest teammates, Nathan and Josiah felt it was their duty to behave as the adults of the team.  
  
As Ezra took his usual seat beside Vin, he noticed that Buck and JD were up to their usual antics. Buck went to sit down and JD pushed his seat out of the way causing him to land in a pile on the floor. Their amused teammates looked on as Buck surged to his feet and slapped the hat off of the head of the team's computer expert.  
  
"You're asking for it boy, and how many times do I have to tell you to get rid of that stupid hat?"  
  
"If you two are finished, we'll get down to work." Larabee directed his words and his glare toward the two pranksters beside him as he passed out the file folders pertaining to their next case.  
  
Still observing his teammates Ezra didn't immediately open the file handed to him until he felt Vin suddenly stiffen beside him. Now curious, Ezra opened his folder and felt all of the blood drain from his face. The picture caught his eyes immediately, it was of a man lying dead in a warehouse, he had been beheaded. As he started to panic he felt the reassuring pressure of Vin's hand on his leg. Flashing his partner a grateful look Ezra forced himself to relax.  
  
"This picture was taken this morning at a warehouse across town. A bloody sword was found at the scene. If there were any witnesses, they're not talking. This has got a lot of important people worried and there's already talk of serial killers and cults."  
  
"That's real interesting pard. But, what's it got to do with us? Shouldn't the cops or Feebees be taking this case?" Buck asked with a puzzled expression on his face.  
  
"You're right. Normally this wouldn't be our case. However, there is apparently evidence of some sort of explosion at the scene but no one can figure out what exploded or how it happened. If there is some new weapon or explosive on the streets the brass wants us to take care of it."  
  
Monday, December 9, 2002 10:00 a.m. Denver, Colorado  
  
As Chris drove the team to the site, Ezra was staring out the window lost in thought. How could this happen now? Now, when he had finally found a home and family? There wasn't supposed to be any other immortals in Denver. That is one of the main reasons that he had agreed to move here when Chris approached him about joining the team. He silently prayed, to every deity he knew, that this would all be nothing but a horrible coincidence.  
  
Vin was the only one to notice how quiet Ezra was. Having learned of Ezra's past a long time ago he could pretty well guess the thoughts running through his head. He only hoped that this case didn't turn out the way he suspected it would. He didn't know what he would do if he lost Ezra now. He silently vowed that if Ezra had to move on because of this, then he wouldn't be going alone.  
  
Leaning closer to Ezra in back seats of Buck's van, Vin whispered in his ear, "Ya' o.k. Ez?"  
  
"Ah don't know."  
  
Ezra's whispered words scared Vin more than anything else could. Ezra never used three words when ten would do and he never spoke words with only one syllable if he could help it.  
  
"Stay close to me Ez. I've got your back."  
  
"Thank you Mistah Tannah but I don't think that will be necessary, at least not yet." Ezra started to say more but his words were cut off by their black clad leader.  
  
"You boys planning on staying in here all day?" Chris was leaning in the back door of the van and cast a worried look in Vin's direction. "Something wrong Cowboy?"  
  
"No. I'm fine. Be out in a second," Vin said with an aggravated tone of voice. It never failed to piss him off when his teammates expressed their concern for him while overlooking Ezra. You would think, after five years together, the team would start treating him better. Instead they tended to ignore him unless they needed something and then wonder why Ezra tended to keep them at a distance. He turned away from Chris in disgust before he said something he was likely to regret.  
  
"Ya' ready Ez or ya' want me to distract Chris awhile?"  
  
"Ah assure you, ah am quite alright and while ah would love to postpone this little excursion, ah am aware from previous experience that our fearless leadah will simply loose that tentative control he maintains on his formidable tempah and this day will simply get worse, as hard as that is to believe at this moment."  
  
Climbing out of the van, Vin could not help the relieved smile that spread across his face. Judging by Ezra's little speech, he must have managed to regain his equilibrium.  
  
Vin an Ezra joined the rest of the team where they were gathered near the entrance of the building. Chief Bill Thornton of the Denver PD was also with them. He was a tall black man with a cheerful disposition. It was common knowledge that nothing could bring him down. Unfortunately his current expression seemed to disprove this. He looked as if it was taking all of his will power in order to keep from loosing his breakfast. The chief was a twenty-year veteran, if he was reacting this badly then it must truly be a bad crime scene.  
  
"Thank you all for coming. This is one case I'll be glad to be rid of. I've never seen anything like it. The victim is a white male approximately thirty years old. He was approximately five foot nine inches tall with blond hair and blue eyes. Judging from the amount of blood he was killed here at the scene. It appears that he was tortured first. The body is literally covered in wounds. There were no vehicles nearby so we don't know if he was brought here or arrived on his own."  
  
"Thank you Chief Thornton. Is your forensics team finished going over the scene?" Seeing the chief's nod he continued, "Then we'll take over from here. Have the forensics results sent over to us as soon as they are ready and we'll need to speak to the first officer on the scene."  
  
With an abrupt nod of his head the chief hurried on his way, eager to be rid of this case. As soon as he could he planned to take a long hot shower then sit down with a bottle of Jack Daniels and drink until all the images from this case were wiped from his brain. Had Ezra known what he had planned he probably would have offered to join him.  
  
Following the chief's exit team seven entered the warehouse to view the scene. The body was lying on the ground in a large pool of blood. It was obvious that the killer had toyed with his victim before killing him. The once expensive suit had been reduced to rags and the body was covered in cuts and stab wounds, any one of which would have been enough to kill him.  
  
"Excuse me." Ezra turned at the sound of a nervous voice. Behind him stood a tired police officer. He was six feet tall with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. "I'm Tom Haskins, Chief Thornton said for me to come see an Agent Larabee."  
  
"Mistah Larabee, it appears as if the officah you requested has arrived."  
  
"You were the first officer on the scene?" Chris addressed his question to the young officer.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Is this warehouse part of your normal patrol route?"  
  
"No, sir. My shift was almost over and I was heading back to the precinct. Apparently someone made a call to 911 and reported a disturbance. Since I was closest, dispatch requested that I take the call."  
  
"What happened when you arrived?"  
  
"I didn't see any signs of a disturbance so I entered the warehouse. As soon as I saw the body I returned to my patrol car and called it in. When backup arrived we searched the building for the perp. We didn't find him but, there are a lot of places in the area someone could hide if they were still nearby."  
  
"Did you notice anything suspicious when you arrived?"  
  
"No, sir...well not really..."  
  
Josiah put his hand on the officer's shoulder and tried to get him to relax, "It's o.k., son. Just tell us what you saw. No matter how insignificant it seems, it will probably be a big help."  
  
"Well...it's not so much what I saw as what I didn't see."  
  
"Just spit it out." Chris snarled aiming a hard glare at the officer, loosing his patience.  
  
Nervously the officer rushed to answer, "Normally, after dark, this area is full of homeless people but, when I arrived there wasn't anyone around. It was like the area was deserted."  
  
"What do ya' mean no one was around? The folks who live here don't have nowhere else to go. This is their home." Vin said becoming upset. He was once one of those homeless people and he new they wouldn't leave their home on a whim.  
  
"I know. That's why it struck me as so weird."  
  
"Did you notice anything else that can help us?" Josiah asked.  
  
"No, sir."  
  
Feeling his frustration building, Chris redirected the questioning. "Has the victim been identified yet?"  
  
"No, sir. We figure it will take a least a few days for the prints to be found in the system."  
  
Noticing something wrong with the scene, Ezra quickly interrupted, "Where's the head?"  
  
"What?" The voices of his six teammates asked simultaneously while turning around to view the body.  
  
"It-it was found on the roof." the officer stammered, paling slightly.  
  
"Thank you, son. If we have any more questions someone will contact you." Josiah told the officer, seeing that his teammates had already dismissed him and were heading for the roof.  
  
As the rest of the team exited the stairwell onto the roof, Ezra and Vin hesitated not quite ready to find out who the victim was. Vin laid his hand on his partner's shoulder and asked, "Are ya' o.k.? Ya' know ya' don't have to do this, right?"  
  
"Yes ah do. Ah need to know who it was." Ezra replied in a sorrowful voice. "Just stay close."  
  
"Always."  
  
Steeling himself as if for battle, Ezra finally stepped out onto the roof with Vin close behind him. What they saw stopped them in their tracks. There in front of them was an alter made out of packing crates with a white drop cloth draped on top. On the center of the makeshift alter facing away from them was the victims head surrounded by black candles.  
  
Circling the altar, they were halted in their tracks by Buck's warning, "Watch your steps boys."  
  
Looking down, the cause for the warning became evident. The surface of the roof surrounding the altar was covered in strange writing and symbols.  
  
"What do you make of this writing Josiah?" Chris asked.  
  
"I'm not sure. I've never seen anything like it."  
  
Upon finally viewing the head, Ezra began trembling and his vision began to go dark. Vin seeing Ezra's reaction quickly placed a supporting hand under his elbow.  
  
"What's the matter Ezra? You're starting to look as green as JD." Nathan said sarcastically, referring to JD's pallor upon seeing the severed head. "Normally it doesn't bother you that someone was brutally tortured and killed. Did you suddenly grow a heart or something?"  
  
"Shut the hell up, Nate!" Vin said, his blue eyes glaring viscously, causing Nathan to be taken aback. It was rare that anyone took him to task about his attitude towards the teams undercover man.  
  
"Did you know 'im?" Vin's question draws everyone's attention and six pairs of eyes stared worriedly at their black sheep.  
  
"We have had occasion to meet." Ezra said, looking meaningfully at Vin. "His name is, or was, Thomas Donaldson."  
  
"The Thomas Donaldson? Thomas Donaldson of Donaldson Electronics?" JD asked awed.  
  
"That would be correct, Mr. Dunne."  
  
"Wonderful!" Chris said angrily. "Now this is going to turn into a great big media circus! How'd you know Donaldson?"  
  
"I have been know to invest quite heavily in his company. I have also run into him occasionally at various charity events."  
  
"O.k. boys, let's take care of this as quickly and neatly as we can before this turns into an even bigger disaster." Chris ordered. "Buck get together with the fire marshal. I want you to find out everything there is to know about the explosion, what caused it, how to prevent it, everything. Nathan, I want you to work with the coroner and forensics. Get me everything you can about the victim and the scene, even if you have to take samples of every square inch of this place. Tell them I said to put a rush on it, this case is now top priority. Josiah, I want a profile for the killer on my desk a.s.a.p. Run the m.o. through the system and see if you get any hits and get a translation of this writing. Get going!"  
  
As Buck, Nathan and Josiah hurried off, Chris turned to his remaining men. "JD I want you to be the go between with the police department. Talk to the people in charge, tell them I want this to be kept tight, no leaks. Make sure we have every bit of information they have as soon as they get it. Set up sweeps all through the area, I don't want us to loose a single clue. Also, put out an APB on Donaldson's car, he didn't walk here. Ezra, since you knew the vic, I want you to talk to everyone who knows him, his employees, friends, family, everyone. Get everything you can from them, plot his movements yesterday, see if he talked to anyone, did anyone notice anything different or suspicious. Find out if anyone would benefit from his death. Vin, I want you to handle the local residents. Find out what happened to run them off. I want to know if anyone saw or heard anything."  
  
"What are you goin' ta' do, cowboy?" Vin asked.  
  
"I'm going to talk to the press. Hopefully if I go to them before they hear about this from someone else, they won't get to viscous. You never know, I might even get them to work for us for a change."  
  
Monday, December 9, 2002 5:00 p.m. Denver, Colorado  
  
The elevator doors opened and a weary undercover agent exited with a sigh. It had been a long and trying day and Ezra was relieved to finally be back in the office. He had talked to more people and put more miles on his car today, than he had in the previous year.  
  
As he entered team seven's offices he noticed the distinct difference from this morning. Where before Buck and JD had been playing, Vin had been relaxing, and Josiah and Nathan had been reading the newest journals in their respective fields, now the atmosphere was tense as everyone worked diligently at their desks either talking on the phone or pouring over paperwork.  
  
Passing his co-workers offices he made a beeline for his own. Entering his office he noticed Vin on the phone, closed the door and waited for him to finish his call. With a frustrated sigh, Vin finally hung up the phone and turned to greet Ezra with a smile. Pulling Vin to his feet Ezra wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in for a hug.  
  
"Hello, lovah. Ah've missed you." Ezra said as he drew Vin into a long searing kiss.  
  
"Mmm... Hey, Ez. How're ya' holdin' up?"  
  
"I'll be alright. Ah'm just tired." Ezra reached up and smoothed the concerned frown from Vin's Brow. "Ah wish we were home in bed, with you holding me and keeping me warm until ah fall asleep." Ezra buried himself deeper into Vin's arms with a tired sigh.  
  
"Sorry babe, we have ta' be here a little while longer. How about a rain check for later tonight?"  
  
"Hmm..."  
  
Several minutes passed before they finally separated. Heading over to his desk Ezra asked, "Vin, Ah've got to make a phone call. Will you covah for me?"  
  
"Don't worry, I'll get ya' as much time as ya' need." Opening the door, Vin raised his voice enough to be heard by his teammates and said, "While Ez tries to track down a couple of Donaldson's employees, I offered to get him some coffee from the cafeteria. Anyone want to join me?"  
  
At the sound of Vin's invitation, four sets of eyes looked up, relieved to have an excuse to take a break. Buck's voice answered for all of them, "God, yes! We need a break. I thought my butt was going to be melded to the chair. Just let me tell Chris where we're going and see if he wants anything."  
  
Ezra had just finished his call when Vin returned. "Here's your coffee Ez. Do you need more time?"  
  
"No, thank you. Ah finished mah call mere moments before yoah arrival."  
  
"Good. 'Cause Chris wants us in the conference room in five minutes."  
  
TBC. 


	3. Chapter 2

For Disclaimers see first part  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Monday, December 9, 2003 5:00 p.m. DeSalvo's Gym Seacouver, Washington  
  
The second story loft apartment belonging to Duncan MacLeod was often sought out by Methos, especially if he was lonely or troubled. After all, where else could a five thousand year old man go to forget his troubles and relax other than the home of one of the few people who knew who he really was? With a few exceptions, everyone else thought that he was nothing more than a young linguist and researcher named Adam Pierson. Besides, there wasn't much that he enjoyed more than annoying the self-righteous Highlander.  
  
As Methos lay sprawled out on MacLeod's couch, he tried to block out the sound of Mac once again lecturing him about being honorable and fighting fair. The Highlander never could accept the fact that Methos wanted to live and would do anything to ensure his survival.  
  
"Methos! Are you listening to me? Shooting anyone who challenges you will not solve anything."  
  
"Sure it will. It always has before."  
  
"What about when they wake up? They are just going to be angry and come after you again. Only this time they won't care about the rules or challenging you before they kill you."  
  
Tired of this argument, Methos closed his eyes and sighed. "Look, MacLeod. I have been alive for over five thousand years. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and the last thing that I need is for some infant to try and tell me how to live my life."  
  
"How can you -" Duncan's indignant response was cut off by the sound of a ringing phone.  
  
At the first sound of the phone, Methos' demeanor completely changed. In an instant, he went from a relaxed position on the couch to alert and battle ready as he hurriedly retrieved his coat. He then removed a cell phone while Duncan stood stunned. Methos had always told him that he would never own one because he didn't want to give anyone the ability to track him down at any given time.  
  
While Duncan stood stunned, Methos quickly answered the phone, saying only, "What's wrong?"  
  
As he listened to the voice on the other end of the line, Methos became increasingly upset. By the time he finally hung up the phone, he was pale and shaking. Lines of grief that MacLeod had not seen since the death of Methos' love, Alexa, were once again lining his face.  
  
Monday, December 9, 2003 7:00 p.m. Seacouver International Airport Seacouver, Washington  
  
For the hundredth time in the past two hours, Duncan once again wondered what was going on. How had he gone from arguing with Methos to waiting at the airport for a flight to take both him and Methos to Denver? It had all started when Methos had received a disturbing phone call. He had then commandeered Duncan's home phone and began making a series of phone calls that he knew was going to cost him a small fortune. Each of the calls was in a different obscure foreign language, which had just added to Duncan's confusion. After the last phone call, Methos began rushing around throwing his belongings into a bag while ignoring Duncan's persistent attempts to find out what was going on. Duncan finally realized that the only way that he would find out anything would be to go with Methos and he to began packing. Now, here he was waiting for a plane to take him across several states for reasons that he didn't even know. His only consolation was that Methos was not protesting his presence, though it was entirely possible that Methos didn't even know he was there as he had yet to acknowledge his presence.  
  
Duncan was jolted from his thoughts as Methos stood and began walking to the nearby gate. Duncan hurried after him, not wanting to be left behind.  
  
Monday, December 9, 2003 11:00 p.m. Denver International Airport Denver, Colorado  
  
Methos rushed off of the airplane, both eager to reach his destination and desperately wanting to be as far away from Duncan and his persistent questions as possible. If it weren't for the constant worry for his charges he would have found the entire situation amusing. It wasn't very often that he got to see the Highland brat this confused, frustrated, and completely out of his depth. As it was, he was too upset to truly appreciate and take advantage of the situation.  
  
Concerned only with reaching his longtime student and friend, Methos plowed his way through the crowds and retrieved the Ford Explorer that he had arranged to be delivered to the airport. Once they were on the road, heading toward the Denver ATF office, Methos finally broke his silence, "Mac, when we get to Ezra's office, let me do all the talking. It's important."  
  
"Who is he? Ezra, I mean. Is he an immortal?"  
  
"He was a student of mine," Methos said, once again lapsing into silence.  
  
TBC 


	4. Chapter 3

For Disclaimers see first part also, I have been toying with adding Buffy to this fic and am now doing so. For those who don't know, the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer don't belong to me either.  
  
A/N: This story takes place after Spike gets the chip but before getting his soul.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Monday, December 9, 2003 5:10 p.m. Xander Harris' Apartment Sunnydale, California  
  
The third floor apartment belonging to Xander Harris was filled with the sounds of a fierce battle. A young man in his early twenties with shoulder length shaggy brown hair was fighting for his life. His body was covered is sweat, grime and the blood from the numerous cuts covering his body. His opponent was a man with bleached blond hair and a face straight out of a B-grade horror movie. His brow was covered in ridges, his eyes were glowing an unearthly yellow and his mouth sported a set of monstrous fangs. Though it was obvious that the vampire was winning, the young man refused to give in.  
  
Just as the vampire was preparing to once again attack the tiring young man, the sharp ringing of a telephone jolted the combatants apart. The vampire steps back and says, "Why don't I get that for you, pet. Jus' sit down an rest a mo'."  
  
"Thanks, Spike. I'll just lay down and die o.k.?" With a heart-felt sigh, Xander collapsed to the floor and tries to convince his body that he was just joking and really does want to keep on living. He knew that he had to learn to fight if he wanted to survive and there was no one in the world who could teach him better than his lovers. He just wished that it wasn't so hard for him learn. Trying to relax, he closed his eyes and remembered what had brought him to this point.  
  
One year ago, he had died when one of his father's beatings went a little too far. He woke up on the floor of his parent's basement, covered in his own blood and with the knowledge that he had died. Fearing that he had become a vampire, zombie, or some other creature of the night, he went out to find a demon to kill him. He didn't know why he wasn't having evil thoughts or thirsting for people's blood but figured it was just a matter of time and he refused to become another mess that Buffy had to clean up. That was how Spike found him hours later, wandering the cemeteries at night covered in blood. He may as well have hung a sign over his head saying 'Free All-You-Can-Eat Buffet'.  
  
It took Spike several hours of cajoling and the threat of calling Giles before Xander was willing to go with Spike to Angel's old apartment. Once there, Spike got him cleaned up and calmed down but, only after he made Spike promise to stake him if he suddenly went evil. Spike then broke out the whiskey and proceeded to get Xander drunk enough to tell him what was wrong.  
  
The next night, Spike took Xander to Angel in LA in the hope that he could help. It was only with the assistance of Wesley, Angel's friend and employee, that they were able to figure out what had happened. Before going to work for Angel, Wesley had been a watcher trained to help the chosen slayer. He told Xander that there was another branch of watchers who record the lives of immortals, beings who could live forever as long as they never lost their head. He then got them in touch with a watcher that he knew named Adam Pierson. It turned out that Adam was really Methos, an immortal who was over five thousand years old. Methos had recently had a falling out with a fellow immortal, Duncan MacLeod, and was eager to get away. Two days later, Methos showed up. As soon as he was introduced to Spike and Xander he agreed to become Xander's teacher.  
  
The three men knew immediately that their lives were about to change forever. They immediately felt drawn to each other and quickly formed a relationship. It was as if fate had stepped in and given them a chance to finally know happiness in their lives.  
  
The slamming of the phone brought Xander back to the present. Before he knew what was goin on Spike had jerked him up off of the floor and pushed him toward the bathroom. "Hurry up and take a shower, pet. I'll pack our bags."  
  
"Huh? What bags? Spike what's going on?"  
  
"The old man called, he needs our help."  
  
Without another word, Xander stopped fighting Spike and rushed to do as he had been told.  
  
Monday, December 9, 2003 7:00 p.m. I-15 East Nevada  
  
The quiet of the night was disrupted by the roar of a DeSoto speeding down the interstate. The blacked out windows hiding the passengers from view. Xander was huddled in the passenger seat, eyes closed, mumbling prayers under his breath.  
  
"Pet, relax. It's not like 'm gonna crash and even if I did, s'not like it'll kill ya."  
  
Xander peeked out from under tightly clenched eyelids. Seeing Spike once again swerve between two semi's he quickly reclosed his eyes and whimpered. "I know that. But, I'm not all that eager to check it out."  
  
Spike glanced over at his passenger and a soft smile spread across his features. He then reached across the seat and pulled his young love across the seat to cuddle against his side. He then began purring and running a soothing hand along his back. After several minutes, Xander finally began to relax against his side. Spike could almost feel the wheels turning in Xander's head and knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back his questions for much longer. He was proved correct a minute later.  
  
"So, where are we going?" Xander asked brightly, doing a complete turnaround from his earlier terror.  
  
"We've been on the road for two hours and you're just asking that?" Spike asked with a chuckle. Seeing the glare on Xander's face he decided that now was not the time to tease his gullible lover, "Heading to Denver."  
  
"Isn't that where Methos' friend Ezra lives?"  
  
"Yep, seems somethin' big's goin' down. S'got the old man really upset." The worry in Spike's voice was almost palpable. He had never known their lover to allow anything upset him to the point where it was obvious to other people. Usually, he kept his emotions under tight control only allowing others to see him as calm and unflappable. "Don't see why he left in the first place."  
  
"You know he missed his friends. When MacLeod called wanting to see him, how could he turn it down?"  
  
"He should have stayed here with us. Not gone off to see the bloody prick that turned his back on him."  
  
Not having an argument for Spike's words, Xander simply laid down on the seat with his head in Spike's lap and went to sleep.  
  
Monday, December 10, 2003 3:00 a.m. I - 70 East Denver, Colorado  
  
Seeing the 'Welcome to Denver' sign up ahead, Spike let out a relieved sigh and stopped running his fingers through Xander's hair in order to wake him up. "Xan. Pet. Wake up."  
  
"Huh? Where are we?" Xander asked groggily as he struggled to wake up.  
  
"Just got to Denver, Pet. We'll be with our mate in a few minutes."  
  
TBC 


End file.
